I too knew Ogona Robert Itua

Death stalks everywhere in the land. From the far North to the deep South, the entire country has become one huge killing field. It has never been like this. The citizens are overwhelmed by death-fatigue. You never know whose number will come up next. Say goodnight to somebody and be foolish enough to assume that they would still be there in the morning.

Before then, the circumstances of death seemed hazy and eerily unsettling. But while trawling the old Saturday edition of a national newspaper last weekend, Snooper was confronted by the unmistakable proof of mortality. There on page 67, in an article titled Expressway to death, was the picture of Robert starring at the world with his trademark deadpan calmness.

Robert was our favourite electrical miracle worker and refrigerator technician. He was very proficient and professional. He had a puckish sense of humour and abundant self-confidence. Only once did he overreach himself when he dabbled into an area beyond his core competence. It ended in a fiasco and with Robert in hiding for quite some time. When he finally emerged from preventive self-evaporation, he was all smiles, as if nothing had happened. Snooper quickly cut his losses at this point.

On Monday February 10, Robert who also worked as a technician with Zenith Bank, was going to Ajah on the Lekki-Epe highway. While attempting to cross the road, he was knocked down by a reverend gentleman who was driving recklessly against traffic. The servant of the Lord attempted to flee but was apprehended by police. But unfortunately, it was too late for Robert. He gave up the ghost in the early hours of the following day.

That same morning as if by some bizarre intuition, Snooper decided to call Robert after a long absence. After the phone rang out twice, it was a lady that picked it. An even more eerie conversation ensued.

“May I speak to Robert?” Snooper requested.

“I need to know who is calling” the lady insisted with a calm voice. After introducing myself, there was some silence and hesitation from the other end.

“He is late”, came the terse response.

“Oh no, I didn’t ask him to come”, Snooper mumbled, trying to make sense of this.

“Sir, Robert died this morning. He was knocked down yesterday. I am still in the hospital”. The news struck like thunderbolt. Snooper hung on speechless. It took minutes for this to sink in. Poor Robert has been added to the grim statistics of manslaughter in what is fast becoming an axis of death for pedestrians. May his gentle and amiable soul rest in peace.